Without Me, There Would Be No You
by EternalUnchainedMelody
Summary: An off-hand comment raises the ire of a certain powerful millionaire, and one of the most controversial figures in all of professional wrestling is enjoying every minute of it. Vince McMahon and Eric Bishoff star! Slash? You betcha!


**Title: **Without Me, There Would Be No You

**Author:** TheVampireLucinda

**Featuring:** Eric Bischoff/Vince McMahon, mentions of Hulk Hogan and Shawn Michaels

**Disclaimer:** Slash! Rated T for language and suggestive themes. (wink wink)

**Summary: **An off-hand comment raises the ire of a certain powerful millionaire, and one of the most controversial figures in all of professional wrestling is enjoying every minute of it.

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><p>"He's so full of shit!"<p>

Eric Bischoff was sitting quietly at the desk in his home, watching the irate man in front of him pace back and forth across the hardwood floor, occasionally kicking things and balling his hands into fists.

'Watching him is like watching a character in a play,' Eric mused, a chuckle escaping him.

Vince McMahon heard the chuckle, and rounded angrily on the seated man.

"This isn't a damn joke!" he fumed, pounding his hands on the desk, leaning forward for emphasis. "Hogan is absolutely so full of his own bullshit that he's starting to believe it himself now!"

The owner of the WWE resumed pacing, growling every so often as he went from one end of the room to the other. "Who is he to say that he made you? I know that arrogant son of a bitch thinks that he made me—and I damn sure beat his ass for that one—but for him to turn around and say that he made _you_?" He turned to Eric again, rage burning in his eyes. "Un-fucking-believeable."

Bischoff shook his head, a smile still resting on his lips. "Vince, he said that over 15 years ago...Someone brought it up to him in an interview recently, and yeah, he still believes it; but you and I, and everyone else, I think, knows it ain't true."

Vince was still livid, though, storming over again to Eric's desk, planing both his hands on it and leaning forward so that he and Bischoff were eye-to-eye.

"Listen, Eric," he growled. "You can't let pricks like that get away with their shit! You let him go an inch, and he'll take a mile; you let him get away with thinking that he had anything, even remotely, to do with your success, and the bastard will—"

The angry tirade from the 66 year old man was cut suddenly short by a soft, unexpected kiss on the lips.

"I appreciate your concern for my honor," Eric said in a low voice, still smiling, albeit with a hint of sarcasm. "But I don't give a damn what Hogan said, or will say. He didn't make me." And now he reached out and put one of his hands over Vince's. "Nor did he make you. _We_ made ourselves; and anyone who thinks otherwise can take a long walk off a short pier."

Calmed somewhat by Bischoff's quiet assurance—and the kiss—McMahon inhaled deeply and took a seat in one of the chairs near Eric's desk.

"I guess I shouldn't get so mad over it," he admitted, smiling slightly when Eric comically mouthed "Ya think?"

"I mean, he and I...We go back a long way," Vince said softly, closing his eyes and remembering. "We fed off of each others' good and bad habits...It got so bad at times that I could have just hit him during a meeting..." He shook his head, the past playing out as clearly as it always did in his memory. "And then he has the nerve to brag about all the things _he's_ done for _me_. Son of a bitch is trying to drag you into a big shithole of pride and lies."

"Vince," Eric said calmly, folding his hands on top of the desk. "I'm already _in_ the shithole, and I have been for a while now...You and I, we have history too."

Mr. McMahon smiled at that. "Oh, I'll never forget that, trust me."

Bischoff returned the smile. They were making progress. "We're self-made men, you and I...But, having been in the same shit so long together, having climbed the same mountains and fallen tragically off them...I'd like to think that, while I didn't make you, without Eric Bischoff, there would be no Vince McMahon. Without me, there would be no you.

"And I absolutely _know_ that without you, there would be no me."

The two men sat across from one another, eyes locked over the short distance of a wooden desk. Vince cracked one of his rare, happy smiles and sat back in his chair, even propping his feet up.

"You're a wise man, Eric," he said jovially, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back even further. "If you came back, I'd let you more or less run the show, you know."

Bischoff frowned. "Get your damn feet off my desk," he answered with mock severity. "And, although I do appreciate the offer, I've got my own show to run here." Now Eric sat back in his chair, an evil light in his eyes. "However...I could be tempted to return to the WWE..."

Vince raised an eyebrow and he sat up again and rested his arms on the desk, folding them and making sure to flex his huge pectoral muscles. "Oh, really?"

"Well, yeah...I mean, now that your beautiful, beloved Heartbreak Kid has retired, you might actually be able to do business!"

Mr. McMahon's jaw dropped completely open for a long moment. "I-I...Shawn, h-he..."

Eric threw back his head and laughed heartily. "Oh, c'mon Vince; you know you loved Shawn more than anyone else in the world. Even though he never gave you the time of day...I know better than anyone else how you felt about him." He smiled slyly. "Well, how you _feel_ about him. Not that I blame you, of course."

It took Vince a full half-minute to recover; fortunately for him, all those years in the biz prepared him for bad shocks.

"Yeah, so what I loved Shawn?" he offered, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over Eric. "I may have fallen for the Heartbreak Kid's charms, but another certain defiant man was the one who, in the end, took possession of my heart."

Bischoff raised an eyebrow, looking up at Vince's imposing frame skeptically. "Oh? And who would that be?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Reaching down, Vince grabbed Eric by the shirt and pulled the startled man to his feet. With all the grace and gentleness of a McMahon, he smashed his lips against Bischoff's, causing the younger man to give a (very muffled) gasp of surprise.

"Dammit, at least give me some warning first!" Eric protested when he was at last able to breathe again once their lips separated.

"It's your fault for playing coy," Vince argued, and purposefully _without_ warning (and against Eric's wishes), picked the man up bridal style with his strong arms. "If you doubt my feelings for you, I am _more_ than happy to _show_ you how I feel."

"Put me down, you madman!" Eric protested, although he didn't struggle too hard to get out of McMahon's tight carry. "Where are you taking me?"

Vince smiled wickedly. "To WWE Headquarters. I figure seeing your old office would do you some good." A hellish fire blazed in his eyes as he looked at the man in his arms. "And doing things that should never be done on public property will jog your memory, I'm sure."

Eric felt his face flush and looked back towards his desk, which was quickly going out of his sight as he was carried outside to Vince's limo. He probably wouldn't come back to the WWE, not on any sort of permanent basis...However, he wasn't above being "persuaded."

After all, where would Vincent Kennedy McMahon be without Eric Bischoff?

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><p><em>Totally inspired by LC Hime, my Fearless Captain. (smile) All credit to her...<em>

_VinceMuse and EricMuse: AHEM!_

_...And to Vince and Eric too, of course... (laugh)_

_Review?_


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